


Thanks for Sharing

by laurashapiro



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, The X-Files
Genre: Crossover, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-10-17
Updated: 2000-10-17
Packaged: 2017-10-02 02:17:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laurashapiro/pseuds/laurashapiro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is for Cody.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Thanks for Sharing

**Author's Note:**

> This is for Cody.

Something was coming, something big, and this time Giles' books   
were no help at all. Willow had managed to find a few paranoid   
suggestions on the Internet, but nothing concrete: something about   
shape-shifters and government conspiracies.

"Whatever," Buffy sighed, shoving her stake further into her   
pocket. Her pants were tight, the pockets shallow, and the darned   
thing kept sliding up and poking her in the ribs.

Word on the street was that the demons knew what was up, and   
even *they* were lying low. Spike was out, damn him. She was   
going to have to go to Willy's.

And yeah, going there at night was a stupid thing to do. Well,   
technically it wasn't quite night; the world was in that film noir   
phase between sunset and moonrise. The leaves glinted blackly   
against a grey sky. Anyway, it was early enough. It wouldn't be   
crowded.

It wasn't. Just Willy, slimy, disgusting Willy, and a lone dark figure   
at the bar. Its back was to her. Medium build, no horns or scales or   
anything. Probably a vamp, except...she wasn't getting a vamp   
vibe off it. Him. Huh.

Willy took one look at her and made for the back room, but she   
was over the bar in a second and had him by the scruff of his   
sweaty little neck.

"Willy. What's wrong? Aren't you glad to see me? I thought we   
were friends."

"Slayer. You -- you got a lotta nerve coming back here." He was   
shaking like a leaf, and she eased her grip just a little.

"I'm thinking you're not so good at the threats right now. Look, I   
don't have time for this. Just tell me what's got all the demons   
freaked, and I'll be on my merry way." There was a dark-bright   
flicker behind her and to her left; the not-a-vamp  
guy was paying attention.

"I don't know nothing about that, honest."

"Now why do I find that so hard to believe?" Buffy drew back her   
free fist.

"Aliens," Willy gulped. "That's what they're all saying. Aliens living   
inside people. Turning their blood all funny." Not-a-vamp guy was   
definitely interested now. She caught a flash of his face  
out of the corner of her eye -- pale as a vamp, dark brows, a small,   
pointy sort of face. Cute.

"Funny?"

"Yeah. The vamps can't drink 'em, the demons can't eat 'em. It's   
been great for business. In fact, I've been thinking about putting in   
a kitchen back here..." She gave him a warning glare. "That's all I   
know. Really."

Buffy looked into his beady little eyes, saw that he was serious, and   
let him go. Vaulting back over the bar, she wished for a second she   
could order coffee and sit down for a while. She needed to think.

Aliens. She was willing to bet the Scoobies' entire arsenal of books   
and magic would be useless in a situation like this. Giles' voice   
meandered through her mind. "...like nothing we've ever faced   
before..." Armageddon again. Oh, goody.

"That was some nice work, just now," a voice said quietly, and she   
turned to get her first good look at the guy who wasn't a vamp. Oh   
yeah, he was cute all right. Dark, glossy hair falling half over his   
pale forehead, laser-like green eyes, black   
leather...hmm...something odd about his arm.

"What, threatening to pummel people for information? Oh, yeah,   
that kind of thing goes over real big with the evil."

Cute guy's mouth quirked up on one side in an almost-smile, and   
there was a tasty little shiver of heat running through her chest.   
Whoo. Careful.

"What makes you think I'm evil?"

"Why else would you be in here, drinking --" a glance down at the   
bar revealed something that contained ice cubes, lacked any   
disgusting lumps, and was a perfectly normal color. It had a straw   
in it. "drinking your, okay, it looks like a Coke, but --"

"Root beer, actually. Dr. Brown's, hard to find on the West Coast."   
His small, pink mouth wrapped itself around the straw and sucked.   
The guy had serious cheekbones. Wow.

"Who are you?"

The man smiled, a knifelike smile that reminded her a little of   
Angel. No, not Angel's smile. Angelus. It would have been helpful   
if cute guy weren't quite *this* cute.

"A lot of people would like to know the answer to that question,   
including me." There was a laugh in his voice. She raised her   
eyebrows at him. "Someone who's looking for the same thing you   
are. Someone who wants the same thing you want."

"Gee, cryptic much? How the hell do you know what I'm looking   
for? What I want?"

"You're the Slayer, right? You want to save the world."

It's not so much about *want*, she thought. "And you want to save   
it, too."

"Yes. And I assure you, I know just how much of a pain in the ass it   
is."

Warily, Buffy took a seat on the stool next to him. She didn't like   
being fascinated by people as weird as this. Probably he was just   
some loony with delusions of grandeur, but there was a kind of   
dogged tiredness about him that seemed real. Familiar. He looked   
like he understood.

"Don't tell me *you* have a sacred duty."

"I can't think of any duty more sacred. Oh, did you want a root   
beer?"

Was this guy for real? "Um...sure."

He went around the bar himself and found a bottle. "No need to   
trouble Willy."

Oh, shit. She hadn't even realized the bartender was gone. What if   
he was off telling his vamp friends that she was sniffing around for   
information? What if --

"Relax. He went down to the back room. I can hear his TV." He   
handed her the bottle and then a glass, and she realized that one of   
his arms was fake. It only strengthened her feeling of kinship. He'd   
made sacrifices.

And that made her think about Angel again, and Giles; brave, sad   
people like he was, fighting and mostly losing. Except...this guy   
didn't seem sad. He was tired, but he had a crazy kind of optimism,   
too. A spark in those green eyes.

"What's your name?"

"Alex Krycek. I'm a single white male, age 37, height and weight   
proportionate. I like movies, cats, and long walks on the beach."

Buffy laughed. "Thanks for sharing." The root beer was very good.

He seemed to enjoy her laugh, but there was a pause. He looked   
soberly into his glass, and then up into her eyes.

"You can't stop them. You aren't built for it."

And she hated that, being underestimated, hearing "you can't".   
Faster than human eyes could follow, she'd drawn, turned, and   
hurled the stake, which pierced the dartboard in the exact center.   
The dartboard gave a little shiver and then shattered to the floor.

Alex's lips parted appreciatively, and Buffy felt smug. But then he   
said, "That's not what I meant. Physical strength and speed are   
strong weapons --"

"And accuracy. Don't forget accuracy."

"And accuracy. But you need a lot more for this fight. Diplomacy.   
Negotiating skills. Access to people in power."

"You're saying I can't just kill them. The aliens. Don't they die, like   
everything else?"

Alex stroked his chin. "You do have a point."

Buffy drank the last of her soda. Bye bye, sugary goodness, hello,   
long night ahead of her. "I should go. Are you going to tell me   
anything, or are you just going to be mysterious guy?"

He smiled, and there was less of the knife in it this time. "I can't tell   
you. I'd have to kill you."

And the thing was, she believed him, and she could also see that he   
meant it in the nicest possible way. She really didn't want to leave.

"I'm not going to just forget about it, you know. I have --"

"-- a sacred duty?"

"Something like that." She slid off the barstool. "Look, Alex, it was   
very...weird meeting you. Let's do it again real soon."

He reached out to her then and cupped her chin in his palm. It was   
cool at the surface, where he'd held his glass, but there was heat   
underneath. His fingers were calloused and rough. She could have   
flipped him over her back without effort, but she was held   
breathless by those eyes. He leaned in, and she smelled leather and   
burnt sugar. He pressed his lips to her forehead, and she thought,   
like Glinda's kiss. Only much sexier.

Much, much sexier. He lingered there for a moment, and she had a   
hallucinatory flash of his tongue slipping out to taste her, and then   
he was sitting comfortably back on his barstool, lifting his glass in a   
kind of salute.

"Um. Yeah. So...thanks...or something, and I really should have   
gone already," She was flustered, she was babbling, she was   
leaving. Quickly. Before she threw herself at him.

She pulled her jacket tighter around her and shook it off. On the   
street, she was already planning. Giles could be diplomatic. Willow   
was good at negotiating. And okay, maybe none of them had  
access to people in power, but she had strength and speed and   
don't forget accuracy...and she knew that someone else was out   
there, trying to save the world.

 

END


End file.
